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A Childhood Filled with Smoke & Mirrors (593 hits)

Category: General

Rating: 1.93 on 21 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by Coleslaw_Murphy (View user info) at 2006-08-23 20:18:26 EDT


I was a pudgy little guy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, swinging a plastic bat at a wiffle ball in the clearing of our backyard forest. The neighborhood had almost enough kids to field two entire teams. It was the perfect size for us. As we grew, we cut more of the woods back to maintain the difficulty for homeruns.

It was perfect.

I was a scrawny youth. Blonde hair turned brown, swinging on a tire in the front yard. Girls had recently stopped having cooties. I always hated that word anyway. Boys had recently become highly competitive. First kisses, first fights, first times to hear and say the words that might get you slapped on the butt by your mom (upside the head by your dad).

I didn't understand hardship, when the hardest thing I'd dealt with was algebra. I didn't understand heartache, when I'd lost only a pet rabbit. Death, depravity, disease, war: these were all just vocabulary words. I didn't undertand. I wasn't allowed to. The negative aspects of life, that were just as prevalant as the positives, went untaught. I was unprepared for the struggle of life, the push and pull of competing wills, the fight to the death in some cases.

And so I got a late start on courage.

I was never given a glimpse of reality. The glimpse that would've taught me that at any moment, during any step of my life, I could be called upon to defend myself, or help the helpless. I suppose my parents figured that I didn't need that lesson as long as they were with me.

But they weren't with me when Jimmy was kidnapped. The veil was lifted, and I froze. Reality punched me right in the face.

I'm a young man now, a few years older. Brown hair turned black, swinging an axe to stack firewood before sundown. I haven't spoken to anyone about that moment, other than the police when it happened. And I figure nobody faults me for it, realizing I was just as young and just as sheltered. But damn, I think about it every day. We could've clawed and bit and thrown rocks, and definitely screamed, or anything. Anything but cowardice.

And that is why I'm writing this today. To tell parents a few things, or at least to tell myself for when I become a parent:

Never give advice without an explanation. Yes, "don't accept gifts from strangers", but also "there are people in this world that might hurt you and you have to fight", and then fucking teach them to fight.

You can teach children about violence, without teaching them to be violent. Teach them what's worth fighting for. What's worth dying for. Teach them restraint. They might kill lions if properly prepared.

Give them comedy, but also tragedy. Show them the rotten side of existence. It will make the ripe side sweeter. And they'll appreciate it. They'll learn how exhilarating it can be to encounter danger with confidence.

I know I learned the hard way.


a sheltered childhood.jpg (7 kB)

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User Reviews


Submitted by maiorano84 (user info) at 2006-11-17 15:53:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2


Late +2

Submitted by Coleslaw_Murphy (user info) at 2006-08-24 12:50:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Indoninja,

Yeah, the spoiler factor almost kept me from admitting it wasn't entirely true. I've been disappointed the same way on other people's posts (one of ghola's that I can remember). Oh well.

Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-08-24 10:11:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

nice work hoss.

Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2006-08-24 09:36:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by Coleslaw_Murphy (user info) at 2006-08-24 01:40:58 (#)
Ranking: 0

I was walking home with a friend of mine. We were in 6th grade or so. A car crept by slowly and stopped down the street. Two guys got out and opened up the hood, to "check the engine". They kept looking at us. We got closer to them, and something didn't seem right, so we bolted past a house, around the back way to the main street and crossed it. My house wasn't far away, so we dodged behind parked cars to see where they were, making our way to my house. One of them had ran over by the house to see where we went. So we were right, they were up to something. My friend didn't get kidnapped, but it was a pretty grim reality check.

The thrust of it is true, though.
I feel like I learned too late what it meant to stick up for myself, and protect people who need it.

Also, I threw a pretty mean screwball...
-----------------------------


I don't like it as much since it is not real, but it is still good and got me thinking.

Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2006-08-24 02:45:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

My dad taught me the right things.

Submitted by Coleslaw_Murphy (user info) at 2006-08-24 01:44:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

And I did lose a pet rabbit. Ha Ha!

Submitted by Coleslaw_Murphy (user info) at 2006-08-24 01:40:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I was walking home with a friend of mine. We were in 6th grade or so. A car crept by slowly and stopped down the street. Two guys got out and opened up the hood, to "check the engine". They kept looking at us. We got closer to them, and something didn't seem right, so we bolted past a house, around the back way to the main street and crossed it. My house wasn't far away, so we dodged behind parked cars to see where they were, making our way to my house. One of them had ran over by the house to see where we went. So we were right, they were up to something. My friend didn't get kidnapped, but it was a pretty grim reality check.

The thrust of it is true, though.
I feel like I learned too late what it meant to stick up for myself, and protect people who need it.

Also, I threw a pretty mean screwball...

Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2006-08-23 23:58:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Good

Submitted by I_love_Kracka (user info) at 2006-08-23 23:06:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:35:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by KindaNews (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:04:13 (#)
Ranking: 1

Interesting.
___________________________
A +1 is not a bad rating, but the asswipe who left it is a brainless dolt
who should be eviscerated with a rusty nail.

Kinda, why don't you simply die and leave your meager funds to the rest
of us???


Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:28:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I'll reserve some comments until you say if this is real or not.


Until then, I'll say this - this was perfectly direct and engaging. If this isn't a true story then you've managed to create a narrator whose words have a weight about them. Trivialities aren't discussed, because what's the point.


I miss playing wiffle ball as a kid. I threw a mean knuckle(wiffle)ball back in the day.

Submitted by Sockster (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:14:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

My mom made me paranoid.

Submitted by extacy_red (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:09:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

TARG!!

Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:06:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by KindaNews (user info) at 2006-08-23 22:04:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

Interesting.

Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-23 21:53:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-08-23 21:43:31 (#)
Ranking: 2

You spoke the truth here, and I really like the simple, honest approach you took.

If this is true..wow.
________________________________
I am probably a frippin' idjit, but it sure sounded real to me.


Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-08-23 21:43:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

You spoke the truth here, and I really like the simple, honest approach you took.

If this is true..wow.

Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2006-08-23 21:07:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Is this true?

Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-08-23 20:55:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Reality bites. . .


Submitted by Chazzy (user info) at 2006-08-23 20:33:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by calbearspolo (user info) at 2006-08-23 20:25:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I always identifu with posts like this... scary.


Homer: You know what?

Grampa: What?

Homer: We're both screw-ups.

Grampa vs. Sexual Inadequacy